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The word, 'hospital' was one that often had a context, to Chance at least, that had little to do with anything involving NC-17 rated violence and carnage. Unless bleeding wounds counted, and surgical operations. Oh yeah, and then there was the morgue, Chance supposed that had to count too. But still, when the word 'hospital' or 'clinic' came to mind, Chance had the image of some sort of secluded, peaceful place that would certainly be a sanctuary in a place like this. He remembered the refugees that his mother, a volunteer medic, had worked with. Even though there were hardly enough beds, five nurses and only one doctor, the refugees had called the hospital a sanctuary. Even the dying called it that...Chance knew from his own experiences. He'd thought it would be the same with this hospital.

He had in mind that they would be perfectly at ease there, safe from the dangers of the outdoors. Unless, of course, the place was already occupied. Then there would be trouble, no doubt. But still, Chance felt that more than anything, the hospital would give them the biggest opportunity they would ever get to rest safely.

Sadly enough, that image was shattered abruptly. Just as Chance was about to breath a sigh of relief(and exhaustion, having carried Sid clear out of a danger zone), his throat automatically locked in place as the scene fully came into view.

Judging from the amount of corpses he had seen there, Chance had labelled the place as a dangerous warzone. However, he was about to find out that such a place like the hospital, a place intended provide safety and healing, was barely any different.

Indeed, the place had been occupied. No longer by the living, however. Instead of bumping into potential hostility, as Chance had initially expected, the only humans he could see in sight were the dead. Several corpses laid scattered about, some have been long since dead, others were still raw and even bleeding slightly. And speaking of which, blood was everywhere...bullet-holes had ripped into the walls of the building, adding to the ominous scene of carnage. Chance bit his tongue slightly, not saying anything, but paling slightly.

Goddamn...this just proves that we're not safe, no matter where we go. We're not safe here. We're not safe anywhere. Something like this can happen everywhere....

These people weren't supposed to die... but something happened to them here. None of us have to die. None of the people on the announcements were supposed to die.

...Madelaine wasn't supposed to die.

The sight of the carnage before him was enough to make him weaken his stance slightly, and Chance felt himself dangerously on the verge of dropping Sid, whom he had forgotten for a while having come across a scene of death. Looking into the open door of the clinic, he could even see one or two more corpses, lying cold and motionless upon the floor. It took Chance to register the distinct, overwhelming stench in the air...

Remembering suddenly, he looked behind him, wondering if the others had caught up. He had been certain that all of their group had made it safely out of the Danger Zone that was the River... but he had been such a hurry to get here that he had nearly forgotten about them. It was he who had suggested that they all rest at the hospital. He had believed that they would be safe there. He had believed that they wouldn't have anything to worry about for a while. And now, Chance wondered briefly...once they caught up, how they would react if they saw what he had just seen.

There were few things in the world that fazed the normally unflappable Sidney Crosby, and seeing the desecration and gore that littered the hospital area was most definitely one of them. Feeling Chance (who, nicely enough, had probably saved Sid's life by carrying him out of the area) stop suddenly, and almost weaken, Sid figured that this was 'his stop', so to speak. It was only when he looked up at what had made Chance stop so suddenly that the blood rushed from his face and he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Hospitals, even makeshift ones, were supposed to be places that one could go for a relief from fighting, from war. That, of course, seemed not to be the case here. As he gazed over the bodies seemingly littered all over the area, Sidney pushed himself off of Chance's shoulders, wincing slightly as he hit the ground and crumpled to his knees, but pulling himself up and leaning against a tree for support.

"This is a ... it's the site of a massacre..."

There was not much else that he really could say. The sight was simply just too much for most minds to comprehend.

After learning that the river area was a danger zone, Takara had left just as quickly as the others had. Although Chance had a bit of a lead on her and Tobs, she still managed to catch up.

Now, Takara could be considered a fairly atheletic person, but running in a skirt and combat boots was none too easy. Thus, when she arrived at the Makeshift Hospital, she was panting slightly, and her feet were throbbing with pain. Slowly she sank to the ground out of exhaustion beside a tree, currently oblivious to the carnage all around.

As soon as she regained herself though, she heard Sidney's words and blinked, rather confused by what he meant. That is, until she looked at the surrounding area. Immediatly her eyes closed as she grew light-headed and woozy. Quickly she got up and moved behind the tree where she proceeded to throw up; despite having an empty stomach.

A few moments passed before she felt she could handle the site of the carnage. Taking in a deep breath, she merely looked around, no words could describe what she was feeling except nausea. Standing beside Sidney and Chance, she quickly turned her attention to Sid who was currently injured from the attack at the river.

"Well... we should take care of Sid's foot before we do anything else... even if we are surrounded by Death itself..."

Toby had followed right behind or beside Takara the whole way, finding it troublesome to stay up with Chance. Hell, the boy was carrying a whole other person, and Tobs couldn't keep up with him. Psycho. >>'

He was sorta tired, too, and had had to worry several times about his pants literally slipping off his waist; the damn drill was heavy, all right, and it made him remember that. Well, even so, as Takara slumped against a tree, he chuckled lightly. Even with the horror and such everywhere (and no, he wasn't thinking of HERE here; he didn't see it yet), he felt like they should at least still...try to remain sane."So, Takara, is that all?" he grinned as he asked the question...and at that moment, he heard Sidney.

He looked back to Takara, who had just finished retching on the ground. He withheld his own bile, forcing it down...and only nodded at what Takara said.

Sitting down on the ground, Sidney winced as he attempted to gingerly remove his shoe. Not able to do so without wincing, he tried a few times before he finally was able to pry it off. Grimacing, he saw the blood on the bottom of his sock, and examined his wound. Surprisingly, it didn't appear to be as bad as he anticipated that it would. It appeared that the bullet had left a bit of a gash down the bottom of his foot (how that had happened, he couldn't even begin to explain), and as such that was the reason that it hurt him to walk. Looking up at his travelling companions, Sidney scratched the back of his head.

"Do either of you have any bandages? Otherwise, I'm not going very far..."

At Tobs' question, Takara had looked up at him with a mock glare as she hit his leg, not hard though.

"I'd love to see you run in a short skirt and combat boots. At least I wasn't losing my pants."

Looking over to Sidney, she cringed slightly as he attempted to remove his shoe. Rising to her feet, she walked over to where he sat and knelt next to him; just as he removed his shoe. With a small grimace, she had to hold back the urge to stay as far away as possible, this had to be fixed otherwise they were sitting ducks just waiting to be picked off.

"I'm not sure if I have any bandages, and I'm not going to start digging in my bag to see if I do. So... " With that, she tore off the right sleeve of her jacket and held it out to Sidney. "... here. That should work well enough as a bandage."

"I'd rather run pantless than in a short skirt and combat boots." He grinned lightly, but sadly, just HAD to look over at Sid. >>

He grimaced as Sid took off his shoe, not being the best when it came to gore up close and personal. Still, at least he didn't puke on himself from the wound. >>" It'd be hell when he saw more, though. That said, Takara beat him to offering a makeshift bandage, as he was getting ready to forceably shorten his pants. Which would help him anyway. <<

"Hope so..." he muttered. Hell, this was going to be a day for the (shitty) records.

Sidney winced as he looked at his bloody sock. Accepting the bandage from Takara, he tried to examine the painful wound in his foot. Upon first glance, it seemed to be ugly, but as he grabbed one of the bottles of water in his pack and emptied it onto his wound, the blood cleared away and he saw that it was actually more of a glorified scratch than anything.

Wow, talk about lucky, or what. If that bullet had hit any of the veins in my foot, I'm toast. Instead, walking is going to be rather painful from here on out...

Grimacing as the water soaked into the wound, Sidney wrapped the makeshift bandage around his foot and tied a knot tight on the top, as to put pressure on it. He felt his foot moan a little, but the pressure from walking wouldn't be as much anymore, and he'd be able to move without becoming a sitting duck. Easing his shoe back on, he looked at his friends and shrugged.

"Takara's right, guys. We've got to keep moving. This place, it's just...well, you guys have eyes, you can see it. But we really need to keep moving. Maybe we should head towards that warehouse? It isn't a danger zone anymore, and we didn't get to check it out before..."

Deciding on keeping to himself for a while, Chance kept to listening in on the discussion rather than actively taking part in it. At the moment, he did not feel like talking, for fear of revealing the mounting strain of unease that was currently welling up in his mind. Struggling to keep his cool, though it was more a difficulty than anything in a situation like this, he kept his face calm as always.

After all, if he started to lose confidence...then gradually, everyone else in his group, bearing witness, would soon start to lose it too. What would happen to them then? The last thing...the very last thing they needed was for one of their group to snap.

If that were to be the case, Chance was detemined to be the last person on the island to lose his cool completely.

But even Chance, ever calm, ever cool, at least on the surface, found himself on edge. To his surprise, he realized that he was pacing, and even mumbling lightly to himself. Somewhat unnerved at this, he struggled to relax himself slightly, looking towards the rest of the group.

"Truth is, we're never completely safe no matter where we go." He said, in an uncharacteristically solemn voice.

But then all the solemnity was broken when Chance's face broke into that usual grin of his and he added, "All the more reason to keep going. In any case, I can't say I enjoy the feel of this place..."

At mention of this, he quietly gazed about at his surroundings, feeling all the more tense every passing second.

When did he start becoming nervous? Chance's mind began racing. When did he start losing his cool? When did he suddenly start becoming....afraid? Had he started to crack the moment he discovered Madelaine's body, cold and pale and shamed? Or rather...was all that calmness from before simply just a fascade? Had he been putting on a front all of his life?

What a thing to wonder, in a situation like this. A situation that simply pushes the most stalwart and strong-willed person to the very limits of his capabilities, certainly beyond all levels of estimation.

Chance reached upwards to rub the back of his neck, making it seem to be something of a minor itch of sorts. But really, all of that came from the tension. For the first time ever, Chance felt himself unable to relax.

It was like an illness, and if Chance hadn't realized that for all his calm and cool manner that he was only human, he would have been disgusted with himself.

Carefully carrying her rifle in front of her, Angelina Kaige had only one complaint about the current situation, aside from the hideous betrayal from her boss, and the lack of a pair of vocal chords. That one complaint would be that her shoes were at least two sizes too small, and were causing her great pain in her feet.

Damned shoes. Figures, that the only corpse around for grave-robbing is a midget-girl. Fucking kids. They seem to develop later and later these days. Hopefully whichever group of kids that I find is stupid enough to believe the 'mute' story. As long as none of them knows standard sign language, I should be okay. Otherwise, I'm fucked! Isn't that a happy thought!

Angelina rolled her eyes at her own sarcasm, and thought of nothing more than doing violent things to Rice and McLocke. Truthfully, she kind of hoped that both were already dead, for it would make her work that much easier. Then all she'd need to do would be to blend in with a group of kids who would be gullibule enough to believe her story, and then ride them to the end. She had a rifle, and was well-trained in so many forms of combat that she almost forgot how many there actually were. In theory, it would work. She was a mute girl who trained in combat simply in case she were ever alone at night and were attacked - she wouldn't be able to scream for help.

Of course, the more she fleshed out her back-story, the less she wondered if she'd even be able to find anyone who was gullibule enough to believe it. Spitting on the ground as she emerged from the forest, alarm bells instantly rang in her head as she stepped into a clearing and almost fell into what looked to be a group of four. Startled that she'd let herself fall so far into her own thoughts that she hadn't heard them, she jumped back and aimed her weapon carefully at them, trying her damndest to force a scared look upon her face. Saying nothing (obviously because she couldn't), she looked at the four, three males and one female. By the looks of things, one of them (she recognized as Sidney Crosby, whom she'd been instrumental in kidnapping) was injured and bleeding from his foot. Silently, she stood, looking at the others, waiting for one to make a move.

~~~

Sidney Crosby had to admit that when the girl came walking out of the bushes, seemingly just appearing out of thin air, he'd been surprised. Surprised enough to fall back off of the stump he was sitting on and onto the ground. Gasping, and looking at Chance, he pulled out his gun, thinking - no, knowing full well that he probably wouldn't have the guts to use it.

"Chance!" He hissed at the other boy, who was almost the unofficial leader of their group.

Sidney then, on the ground, pointed his gun at the new girl, and shouted out to her: "Who are you?"

~~~

Angelina inwardly cursed. That, of course, would be the worst thing that they could have done. As opposed to being violent, of course. She couldn't answer them and she wasn't prepared to take her hands off of her rifle, so she shrugged visibly, and made a pen-scrawling sign with her right hand, hoping they would pick up on the signal.

At the sound of Sidney's hissed warning, Chance on cue automatically turned around, immediately sensing an unfamiliar presence close by. Very close by infact. The newcomer before them was pretty much standing right in front of the group. A female, Chance noticed, clutching a rather deadly-looking rifle in her hands.

Chance regarded her with a look of caution, glancing swiftly towards Sidney as he pointed the gun at the newcomer, inquiring who she was. He then returned his eyes towards the newcomer, looking her up and down.

He had to admit...it was hardly the smartest thing for her to do, walking up to a strange group like that, especially since it seemed as though none of the company seemed to recognize the female. Then again, she might have thought that she could take them all down head-on with that rifle.

Which is hardly impossible,Chance thought to himself with a worried expression. However, concern turned into confusion, as he raised his eyebrow at the woman's gestures. It looked as though she were drawing in the air...or writing, whatever it was. For all Chance knew, the chick could have been casting some sort of hex on them.

Writing, huh? At this thought, Chance somehow understood. But somehow, that understanding only furthered his confusion. Was it that she couldn't talk?

He looked towards the rest of the group. "Sorry, not sure if we have any pencil or paper here at the moment. Unless..." He looked towards the rest of the group. "...anyone feel free to correct me here. By the way..."

Chance looked over the female again, this time with a scrutinizing gaze, crossing his arms over his chest. She certainly did not look like a typical teenager, like most of the players of the island. She looked rather mature...very mature, in fact, judging from her form and face. Her clothes seemed to pinch her, that was enough to strike Chance as odd...and furthermore, there was just this nagging feeling...something that induced him to think back on a certain announcement he heard a while ago.

He looked towards Sidney, shrugging his shoulders a bit. "I don't think she can talk..."

Gazing at her with a raised eyebrow, and a slight grin, he said in a somewhat joking tone, "What'sa matter? Cat got your tongue? ...Or was it one of the players?"

Angelina furrowed her brow and lowered the rifle a little. She hoped that Crosby wouldn't shoot her, but it would definitely make her case a lot stronger if she didn't appear to be a stone-cold killer.

I hope that I can do this one last...I really don't like the signals that his eyes are giving off.

Bending down slowly to the dirt, she rested the butt of the rifle on the ground and wrote in the dirt with her index finger.

'I'M A MUTE'

Standing back to her feet, she kept the rifle raised at the group, somewhat lower than before but still in a dangerous position. She wasn't giving any leeway to the boy who seemed to be the leader, but she hoped that she could convince him that she wasn't a threat.

Demurely, Chance peered down as the butt of the rifle scraped against the dirt, forming a sentence at his feet. Chance tilted his head a bit to look at the sentence properly.

" 'I'm a mute' " He read aloud, and clear. His face showing little expression of what he was thinking, he looked up towards the newcomer, looking her straight in the eye for what seemed like a full minute.

A stretch of silence broke out as his sea-green eyes looked into hers, and was interrupted as Chance finally spoke.

"...Interesting," he murmured. He smiled slightly, though the smile was one that was cool and thoughtful. He seemed to contemplate this revelation for a moment, casting glances between the sentence on the ground, and the woman in front of him.

He glanced towards the rifle, nodding towards it. "Nice one you have there. Luck of the draw is it? Do you know how to use it?" Without even waiting for an answer, he glanced back towards Sidney, sea-green orbs shielded by slightly lowered-eyelids in a somewhat thoughtful expression.

"Very interesting...by the way, I just remembered. Correct me if I'm wrong but...Didn't Danya say from before that the terrorists he were dumping on this island were mute?"

Sidney, still awkwardly on the ground, almost forgetting the strange position he was in, looked up at Chance and furrowed his brow. He almost saw what the other boy was getting at, but he wasn't sure if it would be a great idea jumping to conclusions, what with the rifle and all.

"He said that he'd ripped out their vocal chords, not that they were mute. We all heard them on the announcement. But she doesn't look like she has any visible scars on her throat, Chance. I just...I don't...I don't know..."

Angelina was quite aware of their deliberations, and she appeared to look really frustrated. Taking a chance, she almost tossed down her rifle, and knelt down to scrawl some more words in the dirt. This time, she wrote smaller than before, mainly because she had a lot to say. In essence, her plan was beginning to crack, and she knew that if need be, she DID have a pistol in her pocket that she could have out in a moment's notice. In the dirt, she wrote the following:

'I'M NO TERRORIST. EVERYONE THINKS I AM, BC I CAN'T TALK. I'M A MUSIC STUDENT FRM. UNIV. OF BC. I KILLED/KNOCKED OUT TERRORIST TO GET RIFLE. MY WPN WAS A CROWBAR, I LEFT IT BEHIND, TOO HEAVY. PLZ BELIEVE!'

Standing up, Angelina held her hands up in the air, leaving the rifle on the ground. Obviously, if he made a move for it, she'd have to go for it herself, but she was hoping that this boy, Chance, would believe her story long enough for her to gain their trust and use them to kill the other two terrorists and get to the end.

Toby blinked after reading what had been written. Wasn't HE the oldest of the people here? And he was a senior. Why would Danya bother with college students? It felt wrong to him, and he didn't know why. Sadly, he should have been the very first to realize the deception, what with the fact that he read so many books involving deception, war, and such.

However, it was probably because he was rather fixated on the M16-look-a-like that was now next to the girl. He knew little about the gun's actual specs, but he knew enough to know how utterly fucked they were if she wanted to kill them. The coincidence of her having such a good rifle...should have tipped him off.It didn't.

He refrained from speaking. The senior certainly preferred to hear others' opinions before he ...exposed... his own. The whole time, he failed to see why this felt so wrong. If he lived to realize his mistake, he'd never let himself forget.